


A Survivor's Tale

by AshadelMG



Category: Plants vs Zombies
Genre: Implied Bestiality, Other, Plant sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 15:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16895658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshadelMG/pseuds/AshadelMG
Summary: A brief glimpse into the aftermath of the apocalypse, where one woman relies on only a plant for company.





	A Survivor's Tale

**Author's Note:**

> It's as stupid as you think. I have to wonder how drunk I was when I wrote this... back in 2013.

His name was Ben. I remember his name because he's the one who taught me how to shoot, and he's the one who stood by my side when the first bit of hell broke loose, and I lost my family. No one really thought that building a nuclear plant in our city was smart, but we went along with it. We liked to think we were doing the world a favor. That the generations we left behind would worship us. Looking back on it, I think it would have been better to go green. Ben was really all I needed. If things had been different, we'd be married now. Maybe a couple kids.  
  
Things change when the world dies. I think a little part of me died when I heard about the explosion. The fallout. It took out three cities, that plant. It wasn't the only one that went down, either. I was visiting an old friend when I heard the news. “Eastern seaboard gone nuclear,” the news claimed. We thought it was funny, given that the plants weren't uncommon there, so we thought nothing of it. Until I couldn't get a hold of Ben. I tried, and I tried, and eventually... eventually I realized that I couldn't reach any of them. Not Michelle, not Pauline, not even Dave. Poor, mental, crazy Dave.  
  
Turns out something had gone wrong, and the news wasn't exaggerating for once. It was gone. A third of an entire country just... gone. Helicopters showed ruins that could have been brought straight out of a video game. God help me, I damn near thought that's what it was. Those sinkholes that show up randomly? Could have been like that. I didn't even know that what we were seeing was possible. But there it was... and I knew that, somewhere in that mess, there was Ben. Or what was left of him, if anything remained.  
  
Needless to say, things got weird from there. It was like karma decided to take a great big shit on us. Over five years, everything that could have gone wrong? It did. Everything. A super-virus got loose, and just did something... weird. I'm a botanist, and all I can say is... well, I'm glad my love is plants. In five years, the phrase “all fifty states” became a bit more like, “three states and a handful of islands.”   
  
That's right. It's gone. Most people I know fled south, and I don't know if they're alive. I don't know if anyone is alive out there, but I know that I got mixed up into all of the strange. It happened by accident, me figuring out how to live. See, the virus did something right out of a movie that should have stopped after the sequel. Without knowing too much, I think the radiation changed it. Warped it. People who die tend to come back. Dumb as bricks most times, but they come back.  
  
And just like the typical B-movie, they want just one thing. Brains. They aren't really picky on what brains, either. I've seen them eat everything from pig to human. Even bird. Not much of a meal, bird. The worst for me was the human, though. I really liked Charles. The living dead liked him more. But it was thanks to Charles that I discovered the one thing that kept me alive. My plants.  
  
I started studying the effects of the plants that had been hit with radiation, and while some of the changes weren't too drastic, I didn't really notice them until the point that I had to run from my house. Don't ask me why I went for the greenhouse. I don't know, myself. I think I just went there because at least I'd be eaten where I loved to be, and if you're lucky enough to choose how you die... best to make it work to your favor. In this case, that insane love for my plants is what saved me.  
  
Turns out the plants hate the zombies. The best way I can explain it is using science. Remember how I said this whole thing sort of started with a virus? Well, the radiation and then the virus, but still... it was the virus. Well, the plants are nature's antibodies. Ben tried to explain that to me, once. How the body fought back against invaders. In this case, it was the world fighting back. The most that I knew in those terrifying seconds was that I was going to die, and then that I wasn't going to die but I needed to get a few new windows in the greenhouse.  
  
I watched the world die. I watched everything go to hell, and I still can't tell you exactly how I reacted to finding out the plants were... alive? I don't know. I thought I had cracked. I really did. I figured that was it, maybe I was sick and this was the start of it, and that's when I really started to notice that my plants weren't... normal. I know nothing was really normal anymore, but this was just fifty shades of mega-not-normal.  
  
I spent months in that greenhouse. The only time I left was to find food for myself, because I really didn't want to eat my plants. My first thoughts were that they were infected, and you never want to ingest something infected. The months turned into years, and with a little luck (and several discarded bicycles left behind all over), I really started to expand my collection. I built the greenhouse up and out, and it became my home.   
  
Now that I'm writing it out, it all sounds so crazy. It's only going to get worse from here. I began to have sneaking suspicions about the plants when I let my mind wander. They all seemed connected in some way, but it was more than that. Or maybe my psychosis was just far enough along that this was all just starting to make sense in my head. I started talking to them. At first I reasoned I was just talking to myself, but then I realized I was talking to them. Like we were a family sitting down at the biggest family table ever, they just... became my family. In my head, they had answers. In time, I guess I started to learn how to communicate.  
  
That's how I found the animals. A cat, at first. I named her Mittens, and she stayed with me until old age claimed her. She wasn't a spry girl to begin with, but I found her under one of the bushes and took her home. Nursed her back into health, and she and I had a good relationship. Then there was Doug. I did bad things with Doug, reader. I know it's hard to stomach, but I'm not ashamed to admit I was damned lonely and I'd just broken the last vibrator my town had. I was always so tired when I came back, and Doug... Doug was just doing what came naturally.  
  
Sure, he was emaciated when he found me. Hungry, tired, and scared half to death. It took me two weeks of feeding him before he let me near, but I don't regret a second of it. Poor boy still had his collar and tags, though the leash was snapped. I took him home and dropped him a bath in the pond I grow the aquatics in. He cleaned up nice, and it wasn't much longer before he was sleeping in my bed.  
  
It didn't start out bad. I swear it didn't. It was more of a forbidden thought at the very front of the guilty part of my brain when I first considered it. I pushed the thought off, and then one night there was this dream. The first night Ben – I mentioned him earlier – and I tore the clothes off and just went at it like animals. I woke up soaked and hornier than toad I was pretty sure lived in the pond, and there was Doug. Dorky, big, snoring Doug. “It wouldn't hurt to try,” I told myself. Suddenly my legs were around him and I had shuffled my cunt right in front of his nose. His breathing was enough to get me off.  
  
It escalated from there pretty quickly. Licking, mostly. When we got to the fucking, it wasn't as gratifying as I wanted it to be. He was eager, sure... but selfish. Fell asleep right after, didn't really care if I had gotten off or not. I suppose that's how that relationship ended, but really it was the fact he got out during an attack. Stupid Doug. Stupid, loving Doug. I miss that dog. I missed him enough to cry over his loss for several weeks. Would have thought me pregnant with how quick the moods came and went, but no. Just female. Just a lonely female.  
  
Until Ben.  
  
The night I learned the plants were sentient, I had a fever. I wasn't sick, no. I was horny all over again, to the point that I'd... oh, this is so embarrassing. I'd made a man, reader. Like those really expensive sexdolls, the ones almost too lifelike, but this one was made out of basic gardening supplies. Really, it was more like a stool that I'd thrown some things on to even slightly resemble a man. All that I needed was a phallus. I'd discarded the toys a long time ago, to amuse myself with the sight of the living dead pausing to poke their eye sockets with them while my army whittled them into pieces, and I was regretting it then.  
  
I wandered up and down the aisles of the greenhouse just thinking to myself, until I reached a plant that I hadn't really found a use for. Most of the plants I grew were large, but this little row of planter just held plants that looked a bit more like a cucumber than anything else, dwarfed by the enormous bell plants surrounding them. They'd cropped up one day and I just didn't have the heart to cut them out like a weed. The plants were my family.   
  
Well, I guess this means I’d have fucked family, too. I didn't want to take them off their vine, so I picked the one that I felt would suit my purposes and cleaned it up nicely, then gently tugged it closer so that I could manipulate it a little better. My pants were off and I had my eyes closed as if that would make what I was about to do somehow innocent. With one leg up on the planter, I slid the tip of the vegetable – or perhaps fruit, just go with it – against my labia and made a surprising discovery.  
  
It was warm. Warm and throbbing, and perhaps just a little slick. And you know what? That didn't freak me out at all. I just kept coaxing inch after inch of that silly thing inside me until – pop! - it was in place and the worst thing that could have happened, happened. The vine broke. Do you have any idea how disconcerting it is to start weeping when you're trying to gratify yourself? “Oh god, I just broke this but it feels so goooood... sob, sob.”  
  
And it did. I thought that the vine snapping would kill the plant, but it didn't. It was warm and wet and throbbing, and I started to notice that a bit more in between my haze of sniffles. I put my pants back on, and relished the feeling. When I moved, it was like it twisted inside me, and the little ridges and nubs were all... oh, yes. I kept that plant inside me all day while I worked, and it was like heaven on earth for me. I named them Cockumbers. Who was gonna know?  
  
That little thing had me on edge all day. All those new ways of sitting, just to feel the edge of that vegetable hit one little spot of my insides that made me melt like butter over corn. Bending, even running. Ever had an orgasm while running? I have. Well, I was running until the spasms, then I was face-down ass-up in the dirt trying to catch my breath. Good thing the zombies felt like taking a holiday that evening, or I'd have been in pretty big trouble.  
  
I've never stripped so fast. I was hot and tired, and bed was so welcome when I finally collapsed on it. I even let the windows stay open so the cold could calm me down, and I fell asleep like that. Can you imagine? Just fell asleep all full of fruit. Vegetable. Whatever. The dream I had was... I can't even describe it. I woke up sweaty and groaning, feeling like I had run a hundred miles while climaxing through the whole thing, and that's when I saw Ben.  
  
Big Ben. Precious Ben. If I had any doubts as to the sentience of the plants, they were washed away by Ben that night. I was cradled in one large vine, a canopy of smaller vines dangling tiny little cup-like flowers over me that seemed to be watching. Just... watching. Admittedly, they were watching quite the show. In my groggy state of waking up, I was only aware of my legs around something hard and firm, endlessly thrusting into me.   
  
It pushed, and I pushed back. All I was aware of was that it was wet, warm, and throbbing between my legs, and I was calling to a God that had long since abandoned me. Somewhere in between biting the heel of my hand and muffling screams in the pillow – which, oddly, I remember having to drag out from under that coil wrapped around me – I realized that what was rubbing against my skin wasn't skin like that of a human. It was too waxy, but not unpleasant.  
  
Granted, when you're being spread wide – as I was at that moment, though I hardly noticed the vines holding my ankles apart right then – and hammered into with a fairly decent sized plant-dick, you're not really going to complain. I know I wasn't. Not until it slowed down, gyrating that vegetable into my sodden and abused folds, and I finally let myself focus.  
  
There was Ben. Ben, the enormous vine plant that saved my happy ass that first day I made it back into the greenhouse. I had replanted him next to my bed just because that made me feel safe and he'd grown, but I hadn't noticed just how much until then. I want to say I was terrified. I was scared, I'm sure. Scared, but so horribly aroused at the same time. I knew Ben was there, this mass of vines and fluted waxy cup-like flowers of various sizes, but he was mostly in the shadows. I remembered human Ben, the way he'd sneak in after work and cover my eyes while he took me slow and deep, and everything I'd fought to forget slid right back in.  
  
Like the plant. It was torment, sweet torment and bliss and I just let myself fall right back into it, and just like the Ben I used to know, Ben knew just how to push all my buttons over and over. I felt every vine squirm up my body to cup my ass and part my cheeks, pushing gently at my pucker but never enough to enter. Other vines swept higher to encircle my breasts and squeeze, and I nearly laughed with joy as two of his flowers dropped and sucked my nipples right up, tugging roughly while his vines tried to milk me.  
  
I'd never been one to get tied up, but at that moment, watching my shadow be taken by the larger form of Ben, I saw it for what it was, and I loved it. When the last orgasm he was going to get from me was pulled from my shaking, sweaty body, I felt the dildo pop and gush, and the fullness was suddenly something else entirely. I was set down so gently, every vine releasing me a little at a time, and I was asleep before my head hit the pillows again.  
  
That's... really how it started. As the weeks passed, Ben became more of a presence. He'd follow me out and through the greenhouse, and catch me when I least expected it. I was introduced to the family in whole new ways, and learned that each had uses beyond just defense. The String-of-Pearls plant suited me enough to pop bead after bead into my ass, moaning as each one was pulled back out. The Dogwood made Doug look like an even worse lover, and a trip to the pond had me discovering all the fun of the mass of tentacles I honestly thought was a rather lifeless weed.  
  
But every night, it was Ben and I, and one of the Cockumbers. Sometimes two, and every tryst left me a dildo short and sodden. I hardly noticed the change until late winter twelve years after hell had frozen over. The way my skin was just a little too waxy, a little too green... as time passed, it became harder to move, and I began to think that something was happening. Something that frightened me a little more than the fact I'd just spent months being fucked by every plant in my greenhouse.  
  
By that time, it was really too late. Before spring came, I settled myself in Ben's coils as if they were a throne and let him take me one last time. One more run, just so I’d know the truth. Nature had pit plants against zombies... and my lawn was clean.  
  


-

  
“That's the story that was left on the walls of this greenhouse. The writer, who never names herself, has never been found. However, she was correct. The mutated virus ran itself out when the world fought back with plants, and we won. Three hundred years later, this greenhouse still stands as a testament to her legacy. It's rumored that she may have gone mad before disappearing; no plants have expressed any sentience when grown here. If you'll follow me this way, we'll view Doug's grave...”  
  
Marigold peered up at the tree, her head tilted just so. After a few moments, she frowned and tilted her head more, moving to the side and looking it up and down before grinning. The tangle of limbs and vines looked much different now; a woman with heavy breasts and a bulging belly straddling the thick vine between her legs. From her nipples ran sap, milk white and sweetly scented, and thrust between her open labia, a hardened root spread her wide.   
  
Grinning impishly, Marigold snuck into the cluster of vines and, with a guilty look fit for any impish young woman, plucked one of the large cucumber-like plants from the vine that grew around the base of the tree. Taking one last look, she leaned back against the tree and lifted her skirt, pulling aside her panties to gently coax the phallic plant inside of her, replacing her underwear while relishing the feel of the firm, thick, throbbing fruit between her loins.   
  
Poor Marigold never saw the vines...


End file.
